Three weeks flew by far faster than Vladimir had imagined it would. This was, of course, due majorly to the fact that they were constantly working. They were up at the crack of dawn, absorbed in company matters all day, and they barely had time for dinner before retiring.

Of course, it didn’t help that there was very little actual sleep involved.

Vladimir, who was usually meticulous about his sleeping patterns, found them in the wind when he joined Charlotte in her suite every night. He told himself that he would have her once before retiring, but once always turned into twice...and twice into more. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her - the sounds she made, the way she clutched at him.

And then, of course, there was what came after. Something that he had never indulged in before. They talked.

About everything and nothing at all. It had started with Charlotte asking him about the first time he’d come back to Russia after being adopted. To his surprise, she listened attentively to him for thirty minutes, her fingers drumming lightly across his abdomen. He, in turn, had asked her about her childhood. While Vlad knew that his father and her father knew one another, he could only remember meeting the man a few times when he was younger.

And he’d certainly never met Charlotte. She made an impression that wasn’t easy to forget.

Vladimir considered himself beyond the suffering of his childhood. It was something instrumental to his later life, but he had always considered the Kensleys more family than perhaps anyone but his late mother, and his sister had been long lost to him.

Charlotte, however, spoke of losing her mother at age nine as if it was yesterday. “She had ovarian cancer and they found it too late.” She didn’t dissolve into tears and hysterics, but the grief in the woman’s voice was somehow more effective than either of those things. “It killed us...she was our backbone. The cement that held the family together. She was the one who always told me that I could be whoever I wanted, and damn what anyone else thought.”

Vlad reached down on impulse to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her kiss swollen lips. “Well,” he murmured, “At least I know who taught you to curse like a sailor.”

It made her laugh, lifting the mood considerably.

Making Charlotte Gardner laugh, Vladimir realized, was a rare treat. Almost enough for him to understand why his brother Lucas so enjoyed the company of others. Vladimir had never had the social graces to interact as much as his brothers, but when he was with Charlotte, he seemed for forget his misgivings.

She put him at ease in a way no woman ever had.

While the sex was explosive, Vladimir returned to Charlotte’s room night after night for the intimacy as much as he did for the physicality of the arrangement. Being near her had a calming effect on him that carried him through the day - that was, at least, as long as he didn’t catch any of the Russian construction workers staring at her.

That was enough to foul his mood considerably.

Vladimir had been to St. Petersburg many times - mostly for work, but only one or two occasions, for pleasure alone. Despite the initial hiccups upon arrival, he found he had never enjoyed a trip as much as he did in Charlotte’s company. He wasn’t the only one to notice the fact either. Shiro constantly commented on how chipper he seemed in comparison to his usual stern demeanor.

Eventually, however, their last few days in St. Petersburg were upon them. Vladimir spent a number of them closeted with his brother in the office, in phone conference with their father, giving him an update on the building progress. As a result, he didn’t see Charlotte for almost forty-eight hours.

Forty-eight of the precious hours remaining until they returned to the US and the media spotlight.

Sometime during the flurry of activity Vladimir realized that there were less than six months remaining until he was poised to take over leadership of the company from his father. It was enough to incite a slight moment of panic - just before he remembered the words Charlotte had murmured against the crown of his head.

So, you’re saying that a broken, angry thirteen-year-old boy put in no effort, didn’t bust his ass to become the man you are today? I can’t imagine that Jackson Kensley would allow someone like that at the head of his company, even if he is his adopted son. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Vladimir.

They were words that he had always brushed off. His mother spoke them almost constantly, his father always emphasized just how proud he was and his brothers gave him their endless support.

So why did Charlotte saying them make any difference?

“You ready to go back to LA?” He and Toshiro were sharing a cup of coffee at around three in the morning, and Vladimir didn’t even realize how lost he had been in his own thoughts until his brother spoke to him.

He looked up to find the Japanese man fixing him with a worried expression and frowned. “What’s that look for?”

Toshiro arched a brow. “Do you really have to ask?”

Vladimir groaned. “If this is about Charlotte, I’m perfectly capable of handling things with her myself.”

“You’re the one obsessed with Charlotte, Vlad,” Toshiro caught him with a wry smile. “All I care about is you.”

“So, you’re worried about me,” Vladimir returned flatly, taking a long sip of the life-giving caffeine that he held. “I think we’ve switched places.”

“Oh, please, Vlad,” Toshiro rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his own coffee before setting the mug on the table as he sobered. “It’s coming up on the one year mark. Less than six months now.”

Vladimir merely nodded, his expression carefully neutral. “How’s the project in LA going?” Toshiro knew as much as Vladimir what their father had been attempting to do when he assigned the man to the project. For Vlad, who always followed the rules, thinking outside the box was his biggest challenge.

And Charlotte Gardner was the embodiment of that.

Vladimir answered with complete honesty. “Quite well.” In the weeks that they’d been gone, both he and Charlotte had been in correspondence with Charlie, who gave them updates almost daily. The framing for the entire building had been laid and the first floors were beginning to take their incredible shape. “We’re ahead of schedule, and I’m looking forward to the first walkthroughs.”

“Well, that’s a far sight different than you sounded when work on the building began.” Toshiro replied casually. “You were up in arms about the design-”

“And I’m still not crazy about it. It’s unorthodox...completely different than any other building in the skyline.” He had watched, slightly confounded, as the building that Charlotte worked on here began to shape with only slightly less abstract detailing than the one in LA and simply done his best to accept it. He knew how she worked, he knew about the money they would save and he knew that her style was one that he couldn’t comprehend...just like he could hardly comprehend what was between them.

“Vlad...I’m going to tell you something, and you might not like it.” The statement was enough to make the taller man tense in his seat.

“Alright.”

Toshiro folded lithe fingers together, pressing them to his chin a moment before he spoke. “You don’t like change. You like predictability and a firm schedule. You like things you can control and manipulate...and it’s one of your few weaknesses.”

Vladimir arched a brow. “Are you my psychiatrist now?”

“No, but I’d honestly love to see a shrink try and tackle you. I’d grab popcorn for that show.” Vladimir rolled his eyes.

“There is nothing wrong with the way I operate, Toshiro. It works. It had always worked.”

“And you’re always miserable,” Toshiro blew out a breath. “Right up until the moment you let go.”

It was late - and getting later. Despite the boost of caffeine to his system, Vladimir didn’t think he was in any shape to discuss this now. His brother always picked the worst times to try and drag him into complicated conversations. “Toshiro, the sooner I go home, the better. And that means we have to finish this paperwork, so let’s finish it.”

He supposed that his brother was too tired himself to argue much, but Vlad would have had to be blind to miss the scrutinizing look Shiro shot him out of the corner of his eye. Almost as if he were looking for something.

Though exactly what, Vladimir wasn’t sure.

 

After forty-eight straight hours of work, Vladimir was too tired to do much more than collapse into the bed in his penthouse suite. He sent Charlotte a quick message letting her know that he had returned, and tried not to think of the packing he had to do later. If he was in no fit state to have Charlotte beneath him, he certainly didn’t want to drag out his suitcase and fill it.

 

He hadn’t even realized that he had fallen asleep until he woke around nine in the evening, the lavish room lit only by the dim light of a lamp. Vlad lie there, half-asleep, until a low rustling sound stirred him into instant consciousness. He sat up immediately, fixated on a shadow across the room - and found, to his surprise, Charlotte, perched in an armchair at the foot of the bed.

She was meticulously folding several freshly laundered pairs of slacks before dropping them into the bag at her feet. For a moment, Vladimir watched her, totally flummoxed.

At the sound of his rising, she looked up to find him staring at her and the corner of her full mouth raised in an amused smile. “Well, Good Morning.”

“What are you doing?” Vladimir blurted in reply - ever tactful, as usual.

Charlotte demonstrated by folding another pair of slacks before placing them in his bag. “Well, we’re leaving tomorrow, so I had them do your dry cleaning. And now, I’m putting said dry-cleaning into your suitcase.”

“Why?” It was an inane question, and Vlad could only reason that it had passed his lips because he was still half-asleep. Charlotte merely arched an auburn brow at his inquiry.

“Why not? You’re tired. You need to sleep. I might as well make myself useful if they don’t need me at the jobsite anymore. I’ve already said all my goodbyes. Unless…” She trailed off, wrinkling her nose, “Please don’t tell me you’re OCD about other people touching your things. I’m already half done.”

“No…. I…” Vlad found himself inexplicably tongue-tied. She obviously hadn’t come here with the intention of climbing in bed with him - and she wasn’t trying to seduce him. The only thing she was doing was packing his clothing in his stead. “Thank you.”

Charlotte answered absently, now folding a thick woolen sweater. “You should go back to sleep. You’ll wake up tomorrow well-rested.”

And having entirely spent their last twelve hours without feeling her body against his.

Vladimir frowned at her blasé attitude. Didn’t she want to be with him again? It was well established that their hunger for one another was pretty much insatiable...so why would she come to his room to pack his things without asking anything more of him?

“Don’t look at me like that,” the redhead smirked, “It’s a one-time thing. If you’re allowed to worry about me, I can at least do this for you. Don’t worry, I’m not hunting for credit cards or anything. Go back to sleep.”

Like hell he would.

Vladimir raised himself onto his hands and knees, making his way to the foot of the bed to take a pair of socks from Charlotte’s hand and toss them aside. Without any further warning, he yanked her into his arms - and his bed.

The redhead landed on his chest in a mess of limbs with a sharp yelp a moment before his mouth covered hers. Vladimir kissed her until she was breathless, her fingers sliding through his hair in desperation...and then he stopped.

Drawing his head back, he looked up at her flushed cheeks and her gleaming hazel gaze. In another forty-eight hours, they would be back in LA, and this…. well, if there was any chance that it was going to continue, it would become a lot more difficult.

So now, while things were simple, he would have one last night with her. One last night where little mattered but the way she felt in his arms, clenching around him, screaming his name.

He wouldn’t think of LA, of his father or what was expected of him. He wouldn’t think of his brother and Athena, and the desperate, secret feelings the young woman harbored for him. And, most of all, he wouldn’t think of what it meant that Charlotte had come to see him without sex in mind. All of that was far too dangerous when he was mere hours away from returning to a world that threatened to eat him alive.

And so, for once, Vladimir resolved to take his brother’s advice.

And let go.

 

**

Before she left for Russia, three weeks seemed like an eternity to Charlotte. But now that they had gone, she realized just how fast they’d flown by.

She found herself in somewhat of a daze as the car took them to the airport. Next to her, Vladimir was silent and thoughtful. For all intents and purposes, Charlotte should be happy to he headed back to LA. She missed her apartment. She missed Lila and she missed the familiarity of the city.

But she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen between she and Vlad when they returned. Russia had been a little bubble of isolation for them. While they hadn’t been flagrant in their affections, here, at least, they had existed. In the US, where the media was rapid for any scrap of information they could get, Charlotte couldn’t imagine the man - already media wary - being anywhere near as open.

Or, indeed, even risking any scandal at all.

And what scandal could be bigger than sleeping with the lead architect on a groundbreaking project.

To be honest, Charlotte would completely understand if he decided to end things where they stood. They’d had their indulgent little fling and gotten all the wild-fuck out of their systems (at least, theoretically), and now they could go back to being diametrically opposed. Friends with conflicting interests.

But that wasn’t what she wanted. What Charlotte wanted had come to her suddenly and startlingly that morning as she had lain in Vladimir’s arms in their last few hours in bed.

And it frightened her.

Vladimir Kensley was not the kind of man she could ever have seen herself with. He was stern, commanding, and analytical beyond anything she could honestly endure. And yet, here she was, craving him. Casting secret glances at him in the car and wondering if he would ever touch her again. Wanting more.

But the very idea, she knew, was fundamentally flawed. Not only was she the last woman Vladimir Kensley would willingly enter into a relationship with, they were completely incompatible in all the ways that counted. She was artistic, he was numerical. She was a free thinker, he liked everything painstakingly by the book.

It should be enough that she still had a couple of months to see him. To drool over him and maybe resume their daily food adventures. But when those months were over, even those things would be lost to her.

And so would Vladimir.

He had gotten under her skin in the worst way, and the gravity of the admission was enough to make Charlotte’s palms sweat in anxiety. There was no way she could let him find out. The last thing she wanted was for the man to think that she was weak for him when she had only ever shown him a strong face. That was what she needed to deal with a man like Vladimir.

Between them, there was no room for emotional entanglement, so why the hell would she so rudely insert complication?

She wouldn’t. That was the only solution.

Thankfully, a pleasant surprise at the airport distracted her from her thoughts for long enough to grant her a reprieve from her rapidly growing headache. Toshiro and Athena had skipped breakfast to come and see them off, and they were waiting for them at the ticket counter.

“Don’t forget to drop me a message every now and then.” Athena pulled Charlotte into a tight embrace that Charlotte appreciated more than she was willing to admit. She could only pray that, one day, she and Athena met again. She liked the dark-haired girl’s sweet disposition and honest way of speaking.

“Of course. Take care of yourself.” When Athena released her, Charlotte turned to see Toshiro speaking in low tones to Vladimir. They pulled one another into a quick embrace before he turned to her with a handsome smile.

“It was lovely to meet you, Charlotte. I hope that our firm continues to work with innovators like you in the future.” Charlotte took his hand and shook it warmly.

“Thank you, Mr. Kensley. A pleasure to meet you as well.”

“Please, call me Toshiro.” The Japanese man jerked his head in Vladimir’s direction teasingly. “That’s Mr. Kensley. Don’t upset him by giving me the title.”

Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe Vladimir should spend more time with his brother. It would almost certainly improve his mood. Around people like Toshiro, it was hard not to smile.

“Alright, that’s quite enough out of you, Shiro. We have to catch our flight.” Vladimir surprised her when his hand pressed into the small of her back. “Call me when you get to Nairobi.”

“Will do.” Shiro nodded at his brother. Charlotte didn’t miss the discreet look that passed between them as Vladimir hurried her away. They were, indeed, on the cusp of running late for their flight. They weren’t taking a private jet this time, but a commercial airliner.

But that didn’t mean the trip wasn’t luxurious. The company had booked them first class, and Charlotte was astounded to discover the luxury with which one was treated on the upper deck of an A380 jumbo jet.

She knew that she should be preparing for her return to LA and everything that awaited her there, but she found herself entirely too enchanted by the full reclining seats and gourmet menus they’d been provided. Vladimir, of course, was completely absorbed in whatever he was doing on his laptop.

Charlotte told herself that this was just a preview of the way things were going to be once they returned to LA. There was a part of her - a very rebellious part - that wanted to simply ask Vladimir where they stood. That would clear everything up, and there would be no question of how she was supposed to act when they touched down.

But that was something a clingy, emotionally-attached woman would do - and Charlotte maintained that she was neither of those things. So, instead, she merely buried herself in a book, even though she could barely concentrate on the prose. That, she told herself, was better than nothing at all. All her questions would be answered, one way or another, when they returned to LA. That was all she needed to know.

Despite the luxury, the flight back from St. Petersburg was still a long one, and by the time they touched down, all she wanted was to see Lila and pass out in her own bed.

They were the last to deplane, as Vladimir was set on working until he was all but forced off the plane. They had barely reached the gate, however, when one of the attendants pulled both of them aside. Charlotte assumed that it was to warn them that the media were waiting like rapid dogs at the security checkpoint, but she was surprised when the attendant merely handed a phone from the desk to Vladimir.

Who the hell would need to talk to him so badly that they called him at the airport? Certainly, they’d been in the air for a long time, but if it was someone that needed him that badly, surely they would have tried his cell?

Charlotte hauled her carry-on to a nearby seat and sank into it. She knew that she and Vladimir weren’t technically together, but she wasn’t about to abandon him here. Guiltily, she wanted to spend as much time with him as she could before their commitments once again forced them apart.

She was just wondering if he meant to take a car straight to the office - it was still early afternoon here - when a sharp demand echoed through the gate. Its wild tone was enough to make everyone present look in the direction of the main desk, Charlotte included.

But she, unlike everyone else present, knew exactly who had made it.

At the anguished sound, the young woman’s heart leapt into her throat and she turned to see Vladimir clinging to the edge of the desk with a vice like grip. His face had gone deathly pale. Charlotte immediately stood, taking a step towards him.

What the hell was going on? It was completely and totally unlike Vladimir to make a scene...she could only begin to guess who he was on the phone with to incite such a response from him.

“When?” After his initial outburst, however, he lowered his voice. His grip on the counter, however, remained ironclad. “Where? Alright. Yes, alright. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hung up without another word before turning to the alarmed looking desk attendant. “I need to be on the next flight to New York City.”

“O-of course!” Charlotte didn’t think anyone in their right mind would be able to refuse a man looking as frantic as Vladimir did. “Just give me a moment to reserve your seat.”

By this time, Charlotte had made her way over to the counter as well. Vladimir didn’t even seem to be cognizant of what was going on around him. He was staring at out the window at the planes taxiing in and out of the gate, but she doubted that he was actually seeing any of it. Though she knew she might be overstepping her boundaries, she lay a hand atop his gently. “Vladimir...what happened? Is everything alright?”

He looked down at her, his expression desolate, and didn’t answer her right away. When he did speak, his voice was low and incredulous, with an edge of tension. “My father is sick. I have to get to New York.”

Well she certainly didn’t blame him there. Were it Charlotte’s father, she would have done the very same. It made her stomach twist to imagine just how sick Jackson Kensley must be to prompt this sudden change of events. She only hoped it was nothing life-threatening.

“What do you need me to do?” She found herself asking, doing the best she could to remain level-headed. “I can go to the jobsite and talk to Charlie, tell him what’s happened. I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone.”

“No.” She was surprised at the vehemence of his answer, her eyes widening. It took Vladimir a moment, but he noticed as well, and he lowered his voice considerably. “I need...That is…. I’d like you to accompany me.”

Charlotte didn’t know what to say.

In all her time working with Vladimir, she didn’t think she’d ever seen him lose his composure. This, certainly, was a loss of composure. She might have thought he’d send her directly to the office, told her to make sure that everything remained on schedule while he was gone. After all, they’d just spent three weeks in Russia. They hadn’t even been on site in LA for almost a month. The project demanded their attention.

But Vladimir obviously wasn’t thinking about that. Instead, he was focused on his father in New York. Though Charlotte knew that it was selfish of her, she couldn’t help but feel a small thrill of pride that Vladimir wanted her with her. It might be against the grain of his character, but she could think of only one reason why he’d want her in New York: and it had nothing to do with work.

Her sensibilities warned her that remaining professional would be the best policy. Even if Vladimir did want her for moral support, their time for intimacy was over. If she went with him to New York, she had no doubt that the media would eat them alive - he just wasn’t thinking straight enough for that to be a factor. Perhaps pointing that out would make him reconsider his decision.

But she wanted to go. Charlotte wanted to be there for him in his time of need...wanted to prove that, perhaps, what she wanted with this man wasn’t as completely outlandish as she might have thought.

If Vladimir needed her, she wasn’t going to refuse him. “Alright.” She answered softly, reaching up to touch his cheek gently. “I’ll go with you.”

Vladimir all but crushed her against the hard panes of his chest, and, to her shock, Charlotte could feel him trembling slightly.

Jesus Christ. What the hell had happened? “Thank you.” His words of gratitude were low and firm, and, within a split second, he’d released her to talk to the assistant about the next flight to the east coast.

It took roughly two minutes for Charlotte’s feelings of self-import to turn to worry. Vladimir wouldn’t be flying back to New York for anything less than an emergency...which meant that Jackson Kensley must be seriously ill. The mere thought was enough to make her stomach twist in apprehension.

Just watching the dark-haired man in Russia was enough to show Charlotte that, even if he opened up to few other people, he held his family in high regard. And anyone who’d ever read a paper or seen a television interview on the Kensley family knew how tightly knit they were.

She could only imagine what Vladimir must be feeling right now. That stoic, commanding presence of his broken down with a single phone call.

While he was getting their tickets, the redhead stepped beyond the gate to make a quick call to Lila.

“Well hello. Haven’t heard from you in ages! Thought you might have gotten lost in Siberia!”

Usually, Charlotte would have appreciated the joke, but just now, she wasn’t in the mood. “Hi, Lila. I’m sorry I haven’t called. Russia was crazy and something...something else has just come up.”

At her tone, Lila immediately sobered. “Charlotte, what’s wrong?”

“Vladimir’s father is sick. We just touched down in LA but he has to go to New York and…” Jesus, how to explain the next part. Though Charlotte had intended to call her friend at least once a week while in St. Petersburg, she had never managed to get around to it. That meant that her sleeping with the man would be news to her roommate. “I’m going with him.”

A beat of silence passed between them, and Charlotte knew that Lila was working out what might have happened in the redhead’s three weeks of silence. Her roommate knew her better than almost anyone, so Charlotte couldn’t imagine that it would take her very long to figure it out. 

Lila exhaled a long breath before answering her. “Ok. Well...call me when you get there. Tell me what’s going on. I’ve been worried about you, Lotte.”

Charlotte smiled fondly. “You always worry, Lila.”

“Yeah, well, that’s my MO. Have a good flight.”

“Thanks, Lila,” Charlotte was reminded how lucky she was to have the younger woman in her life. “I’ll call you as soon as I get a minute to breathe.”

But Charlotte had never imagined that moment would be so long coming. If she thought her three weeks in Russia were a whirlwind, that was nothing compared to the next twenty-four hours. She found that she hardly had room to worry about all the concerns that had plagued her on the way back from St. Petersburg. Before she knew it, they were on a plane bound for John F. Kennedy Airport in New York.

The seats were economy, but Vladimir didn’t utter a single word of complaint. In the five hours that it took to get from LA to New York, he clutched at his armrest so tightly that his wrist went pale. It was hard for Charlotte to watch him so bottled up. Though she’d sensed some tension in him on their way back from St. Petersburg, it had been nothing like this.

This, she thought, was as close as she was ever going to get to seeing Vladimir Kensley genuinely terrified.

Charlotte knew that there was nothing that she could say that would possibly comfort him. Vladimir needed to see his father as soon as possible - which made their five-hour-long plane ride one of the longest of her entire life.

The only thing she could think to do was to reach for his hand. Without even looking at her, Vladimir’s fingers curled around hers so tightly there was an edge of pain in his grip. But Charlotte didn’t complain. Better this than unfettered inner turmoil. If there was any way that she could help comfort him, she would take it.

They reached JFK at around eleven in the evening Eastern Time, and the moment they deplaned, Vladimir was on the phone. For the past five hours, he hadn’t let go of Charlotte’s hand, and he didn’t do so now.

“Which hospital has he been admitted to?” He strode through the airport so fast that Charlotte could barely keep up with him - and there was no stopping at the baggage carousel for their luggage. They were waved through customs within minutes, and the moment they stepped outside, Vladimir had hailed a cab. “I’m on my way. Is he awake? No. No, I just arrived. Give me twenty minutes.” When he hung up, his expression was unreadable.

For only the second time in her life, Charlotte felt absolutely helpless. She wanted to tell Vladimir that everything would be OK, but there was no way for either of them to know that. She wanted to embrace him - hold him close. But Vladimir wasn’t the kind of person that thrived from physical attention in public.

For the time being, all she could do was hold his hand - and hope that was enough.

It dimly occurred to Charlotte that this was her first time in New York. Another time, it might have been something to celebrate - but now, the city lights that winked in the distance inspired no excitement. She had no sense of direction, really, but noticed that they drove away from the huge metropolis rather than towards it. Her perusal of several signs along the highway told her that they were in Long Island - which she knew to be just outside the city.

Close to Vladimir’s family home.

It didn’t even take them twenty full minutes to reach their destination. As if the driver sensed the urgency, he got them there in close to fifteen. They had barely pulled to a stop in front of Winthrop-University hospital before Vladimir was all but throwing money at the man before he yanked Charlotte from the car with him.

He didn’t stop until they made their way past the front desk and up to the fifth floor. Outside a room at the end of the hall, no less than five people were gathered outside. Charlotte recognized them all, in some shape or form, from articles and TV spots that she had seen over the years. There was a lean, blonde man who was almost as pale as Vlad himself, with piercing green eyes - he was the most casually dressed of the bunch, and the youngest Kensley son, Lucas. Standing beside him as a mammoth of a man who towered over even Vlad, ruddy and red-haired with a full beard and almost bursting out of the blue-button up he wore - Alistair, the eldest. Leaning against the wall with an anxious expression was a man dressed in a suit that was far crisper than Vladimir’s after almost twenty-four hours of travel. His deep mahogany curls and full mouth identified him as Ethan - younger than Vlad, but older than Lucas. Next to him was a woman Charlotte didn’t recognize - but she had to be someone of import. She was dressed from head to toe in designer duds, her blonde hair coiled impeccably atop her head. Despite her inherent beauty, her expression matched Ethan’s, and the two stood close enough to touch.

Last, but certainly not least, there was a doctor speaking to all of them. The closer they drew, the clearer her words became.

And Charlotte felt her stomach twist in horror.

“...Stage III. It’s not the worst, but it could be better. He’s been managing his symptoms well - I’m not surprised that none of you knew.”

“What the bloody hell do you mean ‘managing his symptoms?” The doctor had barely finished her sentence before Alistair Kensley butted in with a Scottish brogue almost as huge as he was. “How long has he been sick?”

Next to her, Charlotte felt Vladimir stiffen. He stopped just short of his brothers, listening to the doctor intently. The elder woman took a deep breath before answering Alistair’s question with a surprising amount of aplomb, considering the furious expression of the man confronting her. “I’ve been instructed to let him speak with all of you on that matter.”

“Like hell.” Lucas spoke quietly, but it was enough to make everyone listen. “I want to know everything, and I want to know it now.” When the others nodded their agreement, the doctor adjusted a pair of thick glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“My apologies, but Mr. Kensley had signed a number of medical non-disclosure forms that prevent me from discussing this with you. He’s been awake for the past half an hour, and I’m sure that he’s ready to discuss matters with you himself.”

“What happened?” It was the first-time Vlad had spoken since they left the airport, and, at the sound of his voice, everyone present turned to him. He still hadn’t let go of Charlotte’s hand, and she found her cheeks flushing as she was met with several looks of outright shock.

At least a minute passed before anyone present recovered enough to speak - and Alistair led the charge. “Fucking hell, Vlad. Haven’t seen you in an age.” He moved forward to enfold his brother in a tight embrace, and Charlotte finally moved away, somewhat relieved to be out of the spotlight.

Vlad returned the gesture only limply, and she knew he was intent on information. “Where’s mom?”

“She’s in the room with him,” Lucas piped up, his voice wavering slightly. “He collapsed a few hours ago in the kitchen and she had to call an ambulance.”

“Apparently, Dad’s been hiding something from us,” When Ethan spoke, his tone was both rueful and bitter. “You’d better go in and talk to him.”

They had, Charlotte realized, been waiting for him.

Before she met Vladimir, Charlotte had often wondered why Jackson Kensley hadn’t merely set the line of succession to his company with his eldest son. Why not Alistair? She had found, over the last few months, how much of a natural leader Vladimir was. How easy it was for him to keep his head cool under fire, and work under pressure. He was, she realized, the natural choice - not only for his father, but for his entire family.

“Go on, Vlad.” Ethan urged him in a low tone. “We’ll be right after you.”

Vlad looked to each of them, visibly exhausted and pale - but still unbroken. With a solemn nod, he turned to enter the room.

And Charlotte held her breath.